The Jewel of Ba Sing Se
by Yasmeen Rashid
Summary: The story details the budding romance between Zuko and Zhen, who hails from a regal life of splendour much like his back in the Fire Nation. And much like his, there is dark unrest in her seemingly privileged life. The timeline is set during the Gaang's misadventures in Ba Sing Se while waiting for the Earth King as Zuko and Iroh adjust to being refugees. Reviews warmly welcomed!
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender, only original characters and the story's plot are of my own.

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Prologue :

The Jewel of Ba Sing Se

There were countless things that could and were most definitely and undoubtedly being said about Zhen. It was hard not to be the talk of the town when you were the sole heir to your vast family fortune and as apropos to such a title, she of course accordingly took residence in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se along with all the other most elite members of the city, the cream of the crop.

However, because of the overflowing wealth under her family name, it was inevitable and only a matter of time that her scheming, manipulative, sordid, dear old Aunt Ying would claw her way with her perfectly manicured tips into the picture. And in the blink of an eye, she began living off of her orphaned niece since the latter was at the tender age of six.

From an outsider's point of view, it would seem as though Ying taking Zhen under her wing was probably the best fate that could possibly befall the child, especially after the lost of her parents so long ago. And that was exactly what people went around thinking. Ever since Ying became responsible for Zhen's upbringing, landing her the role of the young girl's legal guardian, the most lucrative part she had ever been given in her entire career as a washed up actress, never before did Zhen have nicer, more extravagant clothing on her back and that was the least of it.

Zhen's late parents had always tried to pass on the teachings of living life in moderation, despite their wealth being able to sustain not only of the three of them, but also including Zhen's great-great grandchildren, should she ever extend their family tree one day.

Unlike most of the other socialites, their family didn't come from old money, passed down from generation to generation for the entire, extended family to enjoy, transcending time and immediate relation. Zhen's parents had to work their way up from scratch to build their empire and in doing so; they made a name for themselves, climbed up the social ladder and sealed Zhen's future with a life of financial stability, something they unfortunately weren't privileged enough to grow up with. This was the reasoning behind their frugality, an attribute that better suited those from the Middle Ring or those at the bottom of the social class, who spent their days in the rundown buildings or the desolate streets of the Lower Ring.

Because of this, Zhen was unfamiliar with the lifestyle that Aunt Ying brought unto their household. Gone were the modest clothing she was accustomed to, along with the simple meals and their humble family home. In their place were expensive robes made of the finest imported silk, lavish meals that seemed more like banquets and a private estate complete with a staff of servants and guards always at their beck and call. Zhen's life was never the same again.


	2. Chapter 1 : The Fated Meeting

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender, only original characters and the story's plot are of my own.

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The Fated Meeting

"Lost your way old man?" The youth taunted Iroh, signaling for the rest of his gang of haughty, upper class friends to surround him with the subtle movement of his head.

They assumed their positions, encircling their latest prey. There were five of them in total; Iroh was outnumbered by one to five, though it did not affect him in the slightest. Expectantly, he did not feel so much as a twinge of fear however, taking account of their horrible stances and impish sneers as well as the time they horrendously spent delivering empty threats instead of actually executing them.

"I'm trying to find my way home. Would any of you boys happen to know the way back to the Lower Ring?" Iroh asked them, his usual kind tone coming into play.

The youth then curled his lips into a smirk, glancing at all his friends, exchanging meaningful looks with one another before his eyes landed back onto Iroh. His demeanor then automatically traded in for a look of contempt.

"Hard of hearing are we? I suppose you leave me no choice but to repeat myself," he sauntered towards the older man, stooping to his height, the whole time keeping a self-satisfied smile plastered on his face.

"Do you know what we do to Lower Ring scum like you?" He questioned, whilst smoothing out the invisible wrinkles on Iroh's clothes.

Iroh said nothing and kept his expression welcoming and compassionate despite their uncalled for and very much so misplaced act of rebellion done in the name of discrimination and prejudice disguised as 'means to becoming a man.'

"We'd splatter you all over the walls if it weren't for the obvious fact we wouldn't want your pathetic, filthy remains staining them," one of the other youths remarked, getting pats on the back from the rest as soon as the insult left his mouth.

They snickered among themselves, feeling like impressive, legitimate threats. Iroh looked around and saw nothing more than a group of young men, not much older than his own nephew, prancing around thinking they had any kind of authority because of their parents' wealth and stature. It reminded him of his old mission days way back when he was a respected general, asserting his position by trying to conquer the very same city he was taking refuge in now.

Before he could delve deeper about how ironically poetic his current living situation was, the youth straightening his rags earlier opted for snapping his fingers disinterestedly under his nose to get the former out of his reverie.

"Qi, Ru-you know what to do," the young man stepped aside as his friends assumed their rehearsed positions and proceeded to take a hold of both of Iroh's arms.

"This won't be necessary," Iroh chuckled out of amusement.

"Where am I going to run?" he pointed out, gesturing to the unfamiliar surroundings of the Upper Ring. How he mistook it for the Lower Ring in the first place he had no idea.

The fact that the roofs were a rich shade of yellow should have been a clear enough sign. They were a far cry from the drab brown roofs that the Lower Ring was associated with. If only he'd realize that sooner before this consequential encounter.

"I know better than to take a lowlife's word for it. Yan, Sun-empty his pockets,"

The only nameless youth then ordered his two remaining friends who weren't preoccupied to pickpocket Iroh who didn't even have much on him to begin with.

They managed to fish out a few bronze pieces and a stack of Pao Family Tea House coupons and handed it over to their leader. He eyed them with slight interest, pieces in one hand and coupons in the other.

"You boys are welcome to the tea house that my nephew and I have established. Take a coupon each, I insist," Iroh's tone was persistent thinking that if these boys dropped by the tea house some time perhaps he'd be able to teach them a thing or two about pickpocketing in a more effective way while showing them other means of earning money, more honest and less illegal means so that in the end they could choose their own path for themselves and in the process perhaps even befriend his nephew.

After all, Zuko had yet to engage in a proper conversation with boys his own age upon their arrival here.

The boys turned to one another, trying to stifle their condescending sniggering to no avail unsurprisingly. They weren't even trying all too hard to hide their arrogance for all that matter and felt it unnecessary to put up all those theatrics.

The nameless leader continued to exude his boldness and obvious distaste towards Iroh and everything linked to the Lower Ring by flinging his coupons and pieces at his unsuspecting face. The pieces clattered to the floor upon contact and the coupons tapered away at every direction, creating a huge mess of litter around them. He then rolled up his sleeves, balled up his fist, ready to knock Iroh's lights out.

His friends chorused in incoherent chants of encouragement. Iroh's face held no expression whatsoever and although he was restrained the cogs and wheels in his mind whirred as he thought up of a counter attack to defend himself.

Just as the boy's fist was a mere few inches away from delivering a princess cut to Iroh's jaw, a girl's voice halted the scene from hitting its climax.

"Step away from him, Shan." She warned, moving closer towards the troublemaking boys along with a burly, broad-shouldered man falling into step alongside her.

Qi and Ru who had been holding on to Iroh with no intention of letting him go at first immediately did exactly that and took off with their tails between their legs, shoving one another out of each other's way, trying to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the huge spectacle of a man. Iroh couldn't help but crack a smile at the sight as he massaged his arms to relieve the slight pain in his joints from being held off for too long.

The big man let out a boom of laughter, very much entertained as well which shook up both Yan and Sun to a point where they cowered behind whom Iroh now recognized as Shan. He on the other hand, stood his ground, glaring daggers at the interference that came in the form of a young, decoratively beautiful girl that on any given day, on any other given occasion would not pose such a threat but would most likely even be the type of girl that Shan and his friends would fawn over.

She was fairly tan, with a pair of big defined upturned eyes lined with perfectly drawn cat liner as well as dark chocolate brown hair up in a bun on her head, adorned with an intricate headpiece holding a white lily at the center. Her hair continued to flow down, loose behind her back, past her shoulders. She was also outfitted in a gleaming robe of different shades of green that made her look all the more celestial.

"I suggest you and your friends follow suit of the example that Qi and Ru have set who obviously valued their safety more than their egos," the girl crossed her arms so that her body language matched the displeased look her face held.

Yan and Sun whipped their heads towards Shan who stood in the middle of either of them with a dissatisfied and defeated expression. However, he quickly fixed his posture to seem high and mighty again, nose held up high as he gestured for the last two of his friends to follow after him.

"This senile old man is lucky to have the Jewel of Ba Sing Se on his side," he announced, spitting out the title foreign to Iroh venomously, to no one in particular as he turned to leave the scene of the almost-carried-out-crime.

"Come on guys, let's go recruit some new, egotistical members to replace the ones that were emasculated of their manhood," Shan chuckled, content with having the last word.

They sarcastically excused their presence by addressing their girl as 'Your Highness' and doing over the top bows until the big man stomped his foot and told them to take off with his deep, guttural voice. They sped away instantaneously at such a speed that Iroh might have even caught sight of huge specks of dust in their trail.

Iroh couldn't help but let out an elated burst of laughter as he put both hands to his hips in a small celebratory triumph.

"I'm glad that they didn't seem to inflict any serious damage on you," the girl let out an airy laugh herself as she tapped his shoulder gently, willing him to turn and receive the coupons and pieces she had recollected off of the cobblestone floor.

He bowed in respect before even reaching out to claim what she was offering.

"Oh please. You don't have to do that. Those boys were only joking around. I can't be considered royalty at all therefore my presence hardly warrants a bow," She hastily explained.

The mysterious girl let out a fit of giggles, sincerely charmed that Iroh would even contemplate the idea that she had any kind of royal blood coursing through her veins.

He rose to his original stance again, smiling in response to her contagious smile and gratifyingly accepted the offering she presented in her small, mitten like hands.

"Nevertheless, I am grateful that you came to my rescue miss," he bowed once more before the girl could stop him. When he stood up again, he placed two coupons on her palm.

"It would be a great honor if you could come down to the tea house some time. I would love to repay the favour by treating you and your friend here to a cup of my smooth, enriching tea. It's the least I can do after what you two have helped me through today," Iroh glanced at both her and her big boned friend expectantly.

They looked at each other before turning back to him and nodding rigorously in agreement and delight.

He put his hands together, overjoyed by their reactions and felt the need to make his way home that instant to prepare the finest china and save the two best seats in the house.

"You know, it's actually kind of funny how you could possibly get lost here sir."

Iroh whipped his head at the girl's general direction as soon as he heard she had more to say.

"Oh? And why is that? If I may ask," Iroh asked curiously, a pensive look residing on his features as he stroked his chin, deep in thought. Iroh had a knack for solving games, it was a well-known fact that he was the best Pai Sho player in the whole of the Fire Nation.

So, seeing that this girl was bringing up a bottling fact that he couldn't put his finger on it simply puzzled and mildly frustrated him.

"It's just that, if I do remember correctly, those from the outside of the Upper and Middle Ring need passports to get around the city. How in the world did you venture off all the way here with nothing but a few coupons and pieces in your possession?" she laughed slightly, looking over to her large friend, seeing that he was trying to put the pieces together as well.

"No one can get in the way of fate miss. Consider my meeting you two today a serendipitous event."

A knowing smile blossomed on Iroh's lips. He casted a glance up at the sunset dipped sky with rays of orange, red and yellow playing full effect indicating how late he was.

"I hope to see you again!" He waved goodbye as he traced his steps backwards, back to the Ba Sing Se Monorail not too far away from where they were. He quickened his pace so that he wouldn't miss the last monorail leaving for the Lower Ring.

The girl watched him leave and try to slip past the conductor and luckily enough, he successfully did. The conductor to his benefit,was all too preoccupied with helping a family of ten, boarding the children and luggage onto the monorail.

She watched the monorail until the earthbenders finally bended it out of sight and into the interconnecting tunnels.

"Come along Tai, it's getting late. Time for me to face the music."

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 **Author's Note :**

Hello dear readers, I'd just like to say thank you for clicking on this fanfiction and taking the time to read it! Its my first ever fanfiction, I collaborated with a friend of mine and we'd love if you'd give us some feedback about your thoughts on the story, writing and characters!

Much appreciated!


	3. Chapter 2 : Diamond in the Rough

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender, only original characters and the story's plot are of my own.

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Diamond in the Rough

Zhen arrived at the gates of her bungalow, gazing gravely at the peacock-swan emblem connecting the two gates together. She was well aware that when the gates parted, there would be nothing but trouble specially reserved for her for reaching home long past dusk.

Even at a fair distance from the front doors, she recognized the silhouetted figure standing in the doorway instantly.

Her reluctant steps forward gradually revealed the imposing presence of Aunt Ying, tight-lipped and with one arm slung across the other as her long fingernails tapped her left forearm impatiently.

"My sincerest apologies, Aunt Ying," Zhen apologized, groveling at her aunt's feet.

Her head hung low so that her eyes wouldn't see anything but the colourful mosaic steps leading into the house and the tip of Aunt Ying's silken slippers. She could already feel her aunt's glare searing a hole onto the back of her head as the older woman took in the sight of her tardy niece.

A drop of cold sweat trickled down Zhen's temple as she waited in apprehension and silence for what awaited her unusual belatedness in returning home.

She flinched in pain when her aunt grabbed her by the ear and dragged her into the house, leaving Tai with no choice but to wait outside as usual.

The last Zhen saw of him were his downcast eyes.

Aunt Ying led her frightened niece into the hall, where Zhen avoided meeting the eyes of the servants stationed at every corner of the room and was grateful that they themselves couldn't bear to look at her.

They instead resorted to their dusting and arranging of paintings and furniture without so much as giving her a sideways glance as if their lives depended on it.

Zhen and her aunt pressed on, making their way past the kitchen where even their cook, Mr. Han averted his gaze from her out of sympathy. He continued preparing dinner with the deafening clash of pots and pans, trying to drown out the noises of what was to come.

The deeper they ventured into house, the deeper Aunt Ying sunk her nails into Zhen's flesh. It was as if she was afraid that the girl would try to lose her in the many, expansive rooms that they would walk past, all bearing cold, sterile walls and obscure lighting that she could easily take shelter in.

Not that Zhen would even consider it. Her own room, albeit bathed in the same atmosphere, was at the very least further down enough to make sure they were out the servants' earshots.

Aunt Ying only ever so slightly loosened the crushing grip on Zhen to allow the young girl to lock her door. Skeletal hands discarded her much like a pile of scraps, tossed away so as to fittingly restore her rightful place on the floor.

Zhen attempted to cushion the fall by landing on her soft palms. The tremor inhabiting the muscles of her sore limbs threatened to pull her further down but she resisted to make sure her efforts would not be in vain.

"I'm deeply sorry, Aunt Ying. I promise I won't be late ever again. You have my word," Zhen swore, making her way towards her aunt, sliding her knees against the floorboards to get to her dressing table where Aunt Ying was seated.

She took notice then that her aunt was paying her no mind and prefered to remain transfixed by her own reflection in the mirror.

"Oh _darling_ , it's such a pity really," she sighed melodramatically, undoing her hair as she removed the long, gold rod that acted as a centerpiece to her headdress.

To anyone else, it appeared as nothing more than an exorbitant accessory.

But Zhen knew better.

She had become all too acquainted with the sight of it. And was even more familiar with its bone-chilling touch.

"It's been almost two weeks since your last mistake," Aunt Ying said, the last word delivered through a disingenuous pout.

Slender fingers ran through her hair as it pooled down on her shoulders, a waterfall of ebony with numerous grey streaks that made up about a quarter of her head.

She then lifted herself off of the stool facing the dresser, grabbing the gold rod along with her, giving Zhen her undivided attention.

Zhen looked up at her aunt as she towered over her, keeping the young girl in shadow.

"I must admit, _sweetheart_ , I expected your streak to last longer than this. If I didn't know any better, I would've mistakenly assumed that you actually like putting me in this position."

Aunt Ying crouched down to be eye-level with Zhen, propping her chin up so that she could get a good look at the terror lurking behind her niece's emerald green eyes.

They were Zhen's most treasured inheritances from her late father, whose eyes would hold the same amount of dread if he could see the state his only daughter was in now.

Zhen's expression was crestfallen as she instinctively peeled off her robes, revealing her small-framed figure, enveloped in a short-sleeved white slip she had on underneath; along her arms and legs were copious amounts of harsh, hideous bruises that varied in size and colour but all bearing the same unmistakable indentation from the gold rod Aunt Ying was known to wield.

"I have brought this all upon myself. I deserve what's coming to me for this atrocious wrongdoing, truly."

Zhen knew for a fact that the more she apologized, the less severe her punishment would be, especially if she included how much at fault she was despite not feeling the least bit of remorse, knowing full well that her tardiness was justified with the help she offered to the old man from earlier that day.

"That may be so," Aunt Ying mused, to which Zhen muttered a small prayer of gratitude under her breath.

"However, I don't think you fully comprehend the foolishness of your actions today, _dear_ ," she hissed with feigned concern, enunciating the pet name with all too much saccharine.

Zhen's eyes widened in despair as she felt Aunt Ying forcefully will her to present her bare back as she poised to strike the spot on her body that had never been harmed before.

She felt all the hairs on the back of her neck stand on one side, anticipating the surface of the rod to achingly collide with the small of her flawless back.

"You could easily have fallen prey to plausible threats of the night, like thieves!"

She swung the rod closer to Zhen, keeping it inches away from a bead of sweat that began to slide down her back from the increasing slickness of her bronze skin.

The young girl clutched the cracks between the floorboards, bracing herself for the sudden impact that failed to come.

The older woman wound up the rod, bringing it back close to her own person. With one hand on her hip and another resting the rod on her shoulder, a malicious grin appeared on her plump red lips.

"Muggers!" she exclaimed with thinly veiled pleasure seeping into her sing song voice. She instinctively brought down the rod a second time, barely missing her target.

"Bandits!" she continued in the same shrill, unhinged tone.

It was at that moment that Aunt Ying flung the rod against Zhen's back, sending a sharp pain up her spine that caused her to fall forward once more, this time face first onto the floorboards.

There was an incessant ringing in her ears, completely blocking out the piercing thud of the rod making contact with her back, effectively earning a yelp and causing Zhen to spit up on herself.

Her vision was hazy as she meekly tilted her head upwards to see a blurred version of Aunt Ying, planting her gaze firmly on her aunt, even when she couldn't exactly pinpoint which one to stare at.

Her focus was fixated on white teeth, outlined by red stained lips. The sickening, psychedelic images of her aunt all grinned down at her, barely containing their sadistic delight at Zhen's torment, the dirty work of perfectly manicured hands.

"They could have had enough common sense in their half-witted brains to use you as a means of getting so much as a sight of one gold piece of the family fortune," she remarked, the paranoia becoming an infestation she intended to get rid of as she grappled at her dishevelled appearance to compose herself.

Zhen had been beaten to the point of losing her breath at a more rapid speed than she could inhale to make up for it. The rise and fall of her chest were irregular and initially occurred at a pace much too hasty for any significant, life-sustaining amount of oxygen could be taken in.

Her breathing was much too panicked and came up in short, ragged breaths which did little if not nothing at all to help her.

She curled up onto her side, wincing in pain as she blinked several times, trying to expel the black spots that clouded her vision.

Zhen vaguely picked up on the sound of the door slamming shut followed by the routine scurrying of the servants, desperate to tend to her fresh wounds, already vividly clear in her imagination.

She tried to regulate her breathing, taking in deep, continuous breaths.

 _Breathe. Just concentrate on breathing_.

Zhen repeated that in her head over and over once she managed to get a grip on her own thoughts after they were done spiralling out of control. Tears streamed down her face, an outlet of her loneliness, as the physical pain dulled into an afterthought.

She had no one she could turn to, no one else that knew of the cruel reality behind the closed gates of her bungalow that seemed like a utopia for those on the outside, looking in.

The whole household knew of course, the guards, the servants, even Zhen's trusty bodyguard Tai. But they could do nothing more than give looks of sympathy and treat Zhen's bruises when Aunt Ying was done stamping her lessons onto her unfortunate niece.

No one dared to report the domestic violence that was going on right under their noses, least of all Zhen who alone suffered the backlash of her aunt's rage.

The entire household had to stay employed one way or another to make an honest living for not only themselves but also their families who were mostly impoverished and far from being well-fed.

Another recurring reason that surfaced every time anyone got any ideas about finally standing up to Aunt Ying would be her deep unimaginable connections with the Dai Li.

If one wished to stay employed and out of the entanglements of the Dai Li, one should never defy Aunt Ying. And living up to her reputation, no one even dared to fathom such a thought.

Zhen sat up slowly, carefully leaning back against the wall facing the door. She wiped away at her tears, wanting to dispose of them as quickly and as effortlessly as they had appeared.

She scrambled to get back onto the balls of her feet, struggling to grab hold of the clothes she had taken off earlier. Her hands feebly swiped at the cloth, hoping to get a good grip on them, when a couple of coupons materialized out of the pile.

Zhen summed up every ounce of energy she could manage and triumphantly grabbed the coupons that were in no way at all at the end of a great distance but were really just within an arm's reach. She took pride in her small success, feeling it to be earned especially after being put through the traumatic experience that Aunt Ying had so generously catered to.

She weighed the coupons in her hands, eventually got dressed once again and earthbended a corner of her wall down to escape into the night.


	4. Chapter 3 : Spilled Tea, Spilled Secrets

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Avatar the Last Airbender, only original characters and the story's plot are of my own.

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Spilled Tea, Spilled Secrets

Zhen was fresh off the monorail when she started asking around for directions to the Pao Family Tea House from the night dwellers of the Lower Ring.

They immediately recognized the name as soon as she brought it into conversation and told her exactly where to go, gave her reliable landmarks as well as suggested teas that they thought she would enjoy best.

"Thank you so much, I highly appreciate your help," Zhen thanked them before excusing herself and returning to Tai's side as they moved forward, putting their newfound information to good use.

"That was… unexpected," Zhen admitted as she and Tai walked past a gentleman who seemed to be in a hurry to get home, frantically pushing his cart of cabbages in the opposite direction they were headed towards.

"They're cabbages miss. You've had them before back in the Upper Ring no doubt. Hardly anything noteworthy," Tai said, his sights trained on the road ahead, only ever averting to give the man a nod of acknowledgement as he scurried past them.

"Not that Tai. It's just"-

Zhen paused, thinking better of it.

"Well, there's a reason why we haven't visited the Lower Ring, yes?" she asked, turning to him while gesturing that they should make a left according to the directions they were given.

Zhen took note of the new, unfamiliar environment they were currently traversing and couldn't help but recognize the stark contrast of the Upper and Middle Ring compared to the Lower Ring.

The obvious one being the fact that there was an off-putting odor that lingered in the air that compelled Zhen and Tai to breathe through their mouths, pinching their nostrils closed as the odor became more potent the farther they journeyed into the slums.

"Aunt Ying always mentioned how life-threatening and barbaric the majority of the Lower Ring residents were. But after engaging in that brief but helpful, and even lovely conversation, I can't help but feel that"-

"She isn't right about everything miss," Tai offered, his deep baritone voice sounding unusually nasal, complementary to Zhen's new voice as well.

She nodded, smiling slightly at the sound of his very much out of character voice.

The smile widened even more so when she saw the famed tea house before them.

"Thank the heavens, we're here," Zhen declared, holding up the address on the back of the cream-coloured coupon.

A sigh of relief celebrated the matching address displayed discreetly under the welcome sign, hanging above the front door.

There were two wooden pillars framing the door, decorated with two lanterns each, both glowing spring bud green. All four windows displayed light coming from the inside, the one bright spot of Zhen's night.

The tea house was still open for business.

She made her way towards the door, climbing the stone step leading up to it, sliding it open hesitantly. Once it gave away entirely, she saw a sizable room laid out in front of her with four tables lined on both sides, leaving a wide pathway in the middle.

There were still a few customers lingering around the premise, either unaware of how late the night had become or much like her, found solace in the company of strangers.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a familiar old man, busy chatting up with one of his customers.

It seemed to be a lively conversation, judging by his laugh-lines that became all the more prominent as he smiled and laughed at what the other man had to say.

The latter was engrossed in his own storytelling, going so far as to expressing with his hands and animated facial expressions, to which the old man only further encouraged by listening intently and bursting out in celebratory fits of laughter.

They spoke loudly enough for her to pinpoint certain words here and there but they were rendered humourless and mundane without the context of their inside jokes.

As such, what she could overhear wasn't particularly funny, if it was funny at all to begin with. But she wasn't concerned with having a laugh.

Beyond that, Zhen felt included in their merriment somehow just by being present for the unfolding of the scene and the story being told. It was hard not to be content with being vicariously involved when their smiles proved to be especially infectious.

She found herself mimicking their unbridled displays of joy when an involuntary smile graced her own expression.

Once their laughter subsided, she saw the old man gesture to the teapot in his hand and disappear somewhere in the backroom past the wooden counter up at the front.

Zhen seated herself at one of the vacant tables closest to the door, admiring the paintings of various animals that hung on the walls, trying to appear busy herself.

The other customers were in heated discussions amongst themselves and took occasional sips of what Zhen could only assume was, delectable tea, considering how often they would stop to enjoy it mid-conversation.

The tea house exhibited a cozy ambiance, what with the soothing scent of freshly brewed tea hanging over the atmosphere alongside the soft buzz of conversation playing in the background.

She noticed in particular the two people sitting two tables away from her, a boy and a girl that seemed to have great difficulty keeping their eyes off of one another.

They even continued to hold each other's gaze over the rims of their cups as they sipped their tea.

Zhen recognized the look that glimmered in both their eyes and had only ever seen it when her parents were alive, until now. She rested her chin onto her palm, sighing favourably.

Her daydreaming was cut short when she heard someone clear their throat, anchoring her to reality.

She snapped her neck towards the source of the sound and was stunned to find that a young boy had been trying to get her attention.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't realise you were there," Zhen apologized, taking in the sight of the boy, deducing that he was probably around her age and worked at the tea house alongside the old man from the looks of their matching aprons and the small notepad and brush he was holding, ready to take her order.

"What do you want?" he asked her apathetically, coupled with the same amount of disinterest in his eyes.

Zhen responded with a smile despite his behaviour and put both palms on top one another as she adjusted her body language into a more welcoming and inviting posture.

"Um, this is my first time here," she started off, seeing no change in his detached expression.

"So… you can imagine my lack of familiarity with the menu,"she continued with slight uncertainty. "Maybe you could let me take a look at"-

"We have Golden Monkey-Sloth Tea, Golden Steed-Goat Tea, Cloud and Mist Tea, Dragon Mountain Tea, Dragon Well Tea, Green Bamboo Leaf Tea, Green Peony Tea, Green Snail-Frog Tea, Gunpowder Tea, Cinnamon Tea, Jasmine Tea, Jasmine Dragon Pear Tea"-

"I think I'll just have the last one," Zhen interrupted him before he could finish the impressive array of teas their tea house offered.

After a few strokes of the brush against the notepad, he took to the pathway and trudged all the way into the backroom.

In his leave of absence Zhen had felt although she had been struck in the head, calling attention to what she was subconsciously struggling to remember.

 _Tai!_

She suddenly remembered that her friend wasn't there, compelling Zhen to abandon her seat, intent on embarking on an impromptu search for him.

It proved to be brief and fruitful when she caught sight of him peeking through the windows.

He embarrassingly waved at her and dismissed her when she gestured towards the door by mouthing how he was much too big to fit through the doorway. Tai then continued with assuring her that he was content with waiting for her outside with one last apologetic wave.

Zhen plopped herself back onto her seat, dumbfounded. How was she ever going to get him inside? It was physically impossible. More importantly, how did it slip her mind that she had brought him along with her?

She shook her head in disbelief at her own absent mindedness and attempted to shift her focus on the bright side of the situation by opening her eyes to the possibility that perhaps Tai remaining outside for the time being was a good thing.

For one, at least her plan with not drawing attention to herself while taking refuge in the Lower Ring could stay in motion. After all, Tai did stick out like a sore thumb because of his brute, larger than life exterior and she had planned out her outfit ever so meticulously that night so she could remain incognito.

And having people gawk at her because of Tai's association would just defeat the purpose of the disguise.

She relaxed on her stool, relishing the thought of her well put together facade, comprised of the plainest robe she had hanging in her wardrobe that came in a light shade of harlequin green and over that, a shamrock colour caped hood.

The hood was up and made her feel as though she was completely invisible underneath her unconventional get-up.

That was until a certain old man caught on to her understated appearance.

He stopped at her table as she instinctively allowed her hood to consume her, resembling the movements that of a shy turtle-duck.

"So nice to see you again miss," he greeted her, his voice barely louder than a whisper before caving in to chuckle at the hilarity of the moment.

Zhen peeked from under her hood and aimed a sheepish grin at him.

"I supposed my disguise could still use some work, huh?"

She joined in on his laughter, her face reddening in embarrassment. The old man took that as an invitation to occupy the seat across from her against the wall.

"I'll be honest with you," he said, stroking his chin.

"I didn't expect you to come by so soon," he confessed, smiling, from ear to ear, transparently surprised and flattered.

"What can I say? You gave me an offer I couldn't refuse. I simply had to see this place for myself at the earliest opportunity," Zhen admitted, her face still tainted with a crimson colour, resulting in another snicker on the old man's part.

Their tittering soon died down and a comfortable silence then ensued between them, making way for an abnormal conversational topic that Zhen had already suspected would be brought up eventually, emerging right on time.

"Is it about time we address the elephant-mandrill of the room?" he questioned, the humour still simmering in his tone while juggling sounding expectant, intermingled with an undercurrent of concern.

Zhen smiled half-heartedly, tugging at her hood to better conceal herself. Her actions indicated that the cloth could somehow transport her in another realm of existence the deeper she delved into it.

The unnecessary adjustments she was making on her appearance visibly distracted her, easily allowing for her silken sleeves to slide down her forearms, exposing the multiple bruises in hues of purple and blue.

The constant pain that ailed her propelled itself forward. It consumed her attention in its entirety, reminding her that she could never truly escape being its involuntary prisoner.

The torment was nothing new but the place it had embedded itself into still needed some getting used to.

Her back throbbed, begging for her to leave. The habitual ability to numb the ever-present aching feeling that plagued her body had started to wane.

She grimaced in response as her knee jolted upward, hitting the table with a loud thud.

That was enough to snap her focus back to what caused it all.

A gasp escaped her chapped lips in a flurry of panic when she fully processed that her wounds were exposed.

 _No. No. Please. No. Crap. Crap. Crap._

In that brief instant, she felt as if her skin had been cleaved off.

And along with that, came a continuous stream of her innermost, darkest secrets that manifested themselves as the discolourations that marked her.

She defeatedly pulled the sleeves over her arms, seeing no reason to be hasty at this point. Zhen relished in that one last adjustment, prolonging tending to her appearance for as long as possible.

The young girl looked up at the old man reluctantly, with eyes that were tempted to shy away as soon as they regained eye contact with his, afraid that she'd find judgement or heaven forbid, disgust in them.

Zhen was grateful to find neither in the pair of eyes that stared back at her.

"I don't know if you're aware of this," he spoke, his tone dripping with insight and empathy.

"But I personally believe that tea is a wonderful remedy for the soul," he continued, his eyes never once trailing away from hers.

They softened the more he recognized the dejected look trapped within hers.

"However, I find that parsley leaves work best when tending to your injuries," he said finally, treading lightly as he did to avoid alarming her.

A disarming smile complemented his knowing eyes, trying to persuade the young girl out of the hood that barricaded her.

Zhen felt her body fly off the stool.

It wasn't until her knee caps knocked together did she realize her legs were shaking.

Her jaw tensed as she clung to the sides of the table. Zhen's palms grew slick with sweat. An intangible weight settled between her shoulders blades, putting her perfect posture to the test, slowly willing it into submission.

She stood hunched over the table, surveying the other patrons from underneath her hood, convinced that she'd find them staring with mouths agape.

No one dared to openly gawk at her but the few people that stole a glance in her general direction were enough to feed into the festering paranoia.

"Excuse me. I-I have to go. I-I must"-

The sudden stutter plaguing her speech patterns evidently frustrated her, leading Zhen to wordlessly pry her hands off the table, intent on putting this whole night behind her.

The old man offered a solemn smile as a parting gift. Zhen couldn't bring herself to do the same, her lips tightening into a thin line as she instead compensated with a look of remorse.

She walked out of the frame of the table, having made up her mind that there was nothing she could say or do that could mend the situation.

What she never considered was if the situation could get any worse, let alone how.

Zhen knew that she was perpetually absent minded. It was a shortcoming deeply embedded within her nature, a recurring mindset she found herself slipping into several times over the course of this night alone.

It inadvertently created a paradox, where in spite of her absent mindedness, she was, at the very least, aware of it.

After tonight, she would often wonder why she ever thought that was a redeeming quality in the first place.

At least if she were severely absent minded, there wouldn't be any more room to spare for embarrassment, an inevitable by-product of her own antics that ultimately owe their thanks to her being such a scatterbrain.

In keeping with this trait, Zhen unwittingly placed herself in the tea servers' pathway, preoccupied with the guilt that only prospered in the old man's presence, practically paving the way for what happened next.

When you drift off into depths of your own mind, you will discover a fleeting sense of self that only depletes the more you submerge in it.

So when she bumped into someone just as she turned to leave, she was already so far gone that her senses had been completely taken over by the crippling guilt that pleaded for her to retreat within herself.

Instead of snapping her back to reality, it managed to pull her further down. The sheer collision only served to knock Zhen's consciousness out of her, much like a spectre whose connections to her physical vessel were being severed at each individual vein, coinciding with each individual bruise.

Zhen witnessed all of it through the lens of an out of body experience. Despite the distance wedged between her and the incident because of this, she's treated to every excruciating detail by being able to see it all play out in slow motion.

The tea set took to the air, undertaking an impressive flight that although was short-lived, was nonetheless magnificent and even went so far as to siphoning the air out of the room as audible gasps accompanied the spectacle.

What followed was arguably more magnificent in its ability to sustain the stillness delicately veiled over the scene.

It was safe to assume that the aforementioned tea set was likely the best china they had, considering the detailed craftsmanship that had been invested into its intricate floral patterns, embossed all around the glistening white of the porcelain.

Then it was only fitting that it would also be their most magnificent heap of pottery when the tea set flew out of the waiter's grip and unceremoniously clattered against the brickstone floor.

Zhen heard it break before anything else.

The sound was resounding and eclipsed whatever noise that might try to upstage it by inhabiting the entire setting.

If Zhen were ever in doubt about whether the other customers happened to glance over at her or were looking at her specifically, she certainly had no reason to harbour such dubiety now.

They reacted in the exact same manner Zhen feared they would, their gapes unrestrained from the lack of common courtesy, easily and rightfully outweighed by sheer curiosity and pure surprise.

But the weight of their collective gaze did little in affecting the weightlessness she felt.

It kept her suspended and occupying a parallel universe where everything occurred at a significantly slower pace than how they naturally would in real time, including Zhen's capacity to produce her own reactions to her routine falls from grace.

She was only able see herself, utterly perplexed by the sight before her.

The boy's face sporadically broke out in a deep scarlet hue, specifically in the apples of his cheeks. The blood rose underneath his fair complexion, smearing his yellow undertone with tints of red, a physical manifestation of his flaring temper.

A noticeable tension that burdened the head of his brow, succeeding in pulling it downward to support the phantom weight, naturally catapulting the tail of the brow up.

This created an impressive arch that rose in time with his voice, or at least Zhen assumed that it did.

He was unmistakably driven by anger, corrupting him like a virus. The infection hijacked his facial expressions first above all else and still discontented with its progress, proceeded to hold his manner of speech and body language hostage as well.

Zhen automatically pieced together that his barred teeth were parted at times only to allow for his yelling to be delivered better through the smoother medium of an open mouth and the wild, erratic movements of his Adam's apple.

Much effort was deliberately being thrown in to accurately convey the rage that boiled to a simmer and lay trapped within the confines of his similarly hunched frame and balled up fists.

But Zhen was so far removed from her own frame that his voice sounded more faraway than anything else.

She was sure it was entirely her own doing, the state of her mind finding it difficult operating without a consciousness at the helm. It instead resorted to the emergency power of muscle memory that simply gave the illusion that Zhen was present in her marred skin.

If someone were to pull back the curtains, they would find that the lights were on but there wasn't a soul in sight.

Her own consciousness wasn't something she gave much thought to, not realizing just how vital it was to her well-being.

The effects of its absence all borne similar properties to being pulled down underwater, including rendering his passionate screams into nothing more than garbled, unintelligible white noise.

Truth be told, Zhen hadn't gone swimming in ages.

So her assessment of the symptoms that she was experiencing, much like how the rest of her body was currently functioning, relied solely on memory, both of the reliable and instinctual ilk as well as that of the hazy.

Even so, there was no mistaking the distinct sound of water rushing into her ears every time she tried to make sense of him.

It wasn't for a lack of trying either.

Her gaze had grown fatigued from repeatedly changing course, adamant with taking in every feature of his that stood out from the rest of his overall appearance. Zhen's keen sense of sight had to stand in as a substitute for her hearing, struggling to deduce his words through visual cues.

She willed her eyes to flick upward, hungry and determined to continue searching, for what exactly she couldn't say for certain.

They retraced their way back, starting from the base of his neck and working their way up from there. Zhen revisited the sight of his Adam's apple, this time only ever moving when he swallowed, making her a lay witness to a sizable gulp that likely necessitated itself from all his yelling.

The cartilage served as a stepping stone that thrusted her up back onto his teeth, now encumbered by his closed mouth, souring into a frown that Zhen guessed he opted for once weariness had set in.

Taking these new discoveries into account, she overstepped her sight by harnessing her mind's eye. She was already able to see the remaining few landmarks she had previously marked on his face and how they too would have been reduced to subtle counterparts of what they previously were.

But then an anomaly emerged.

For instead of keeping in line with the subtleties that comprised his expression, the flush in his cheeks seemed determined in standing out.

The red only deepened, intensifying into a darker colour that more closely resembled the skin of a person suffering from heat stroke, having experienced a great deal of strain for a lengthy amount of time.

So there was a 50-50 chance that the tension might still be infused within the arch his brow or at the very least falter even slightly.

Zhen never made it up there to check for herself, knowing full well she wouldn't find it there anymore.

It became something that could only be felt from then on, revealing itself as a formidable adversary to the weightlessness seated atop her shoulders.

What she could see however, was the image of herself, crisp and clear and staring back at her.

It was small and lacked the fire that had at this point, extinguished itself, leaving her cold and shaking, trying to compensate for its sudden disappearance.

Zhen wrapped her arms around her torso, hugging it tight as she did, feeling her own body heat envelop her.

She froze.

Every bruise cried out in agony. Her upper arm throbbed, the ache wanting nothing more than to be recognized. Zhen's entire body felt compelled to break into a cold sweat as everything surrounding her grew less detailed and more psychedelic.

The faces of all the other patrons blurred and merged together, robbing each one of their identity and individuality. The clamour that their voices assisted in made them equally indistinguishable from one another, their hushed tones having more in common with the sound of a swarm of bees, hovering maddeningly over Zhen's head.

It attracted other noises to join in on the commotion, subverting expectations by running with the laws of a siren call, unsatisfied with the support that already rallied behind it.

The discord was inflated with the familiar annoyance of the tea set. It crashed into a thousand pieces only to supposedly assemble itself back together for it to come apart again, each interval in between becoming more brief than the last.

Zhen still couldn't pick up on the boy's words, especially amidst all the chaos. The best she got was his voice intermittently coming through to her. It gave Zhen the sense that he was speaking in an entirely different frequency, much too high for her to understand him.

It was impossible to hear him with the volume turned down. But a greater challenge was hearing him with the volume swung onto the other extreme.

When Zhen likened the other patrons' ceaseless tumult of whispers to bees, she felt that a good baseline to springboard off of was now in her arsenal.

Now she could decide what the boy's otherworldly maelstrom most resembled in the real world, bringing her that much closer to comprehending it and ultimately, him.

But much to her frustrations and thinning patience, he sounded like nothing she had ever heard before, nothing she could compare him to.

It was loud but inconsistently so. Where she least expected him to, he would exert all his energy and invest it into a wordless shout, only ever surrendering for him to recuperate with his heavy breathing.

With his contribution, the ruckus was no longer an aimless, random cacophony of noise that yielded support from volunteers. This time, it could afford to be selective with, if nothing else, the placement of its reinforcements to ensure the most potent attack.

They ambushed her. Every direction she stared down would be armed with a boisterous sound, poised and ready to assault her senses.

Zhen began to catch on to the pattern that it methodically adhered to. She was being suffocated by faceless figures, positioned at both sides, closing in on her fast.

They were making steady progress in their gradual approach towards her and in their unabating buzzing, both proving to be successful in their deconstruction of Zhen's cognitive functioning and slippery sanity.

The tea set not only knew to repeatedly deconstruct itself in the same manner, but was strategically placed just a hair behind the advancing crowd, being more high pitched than both sides combined. It was demoted to background noise, the small inclusion given being more than enough in showing its vitality.

And what of the boy stationed up on the front lines?

He was fittingly tasked with the most important role of all.

It only made sense to have the main force be composed of the most abled bodied member, the only one worthy of delivering the finishing blow.

The nuisance of buzzing bees grated Zhen's eardrums. But if she didn't concentrate too hard, it was simply that, a nuisance at most.

Which would explain why the boy was effectively made front runner instead. His convenient position certainly helped but it was his unparalleled command of the recruits that cemented it.

The boy's temper was like none other. The same could be said for his seemingly random outbursts peppered in between his breathless panting, rightfully all his own. A ruthless combination such as his was specially concocted to make the most imposing fixture, standing in his own rank above the rest.

However, his face was just as hazy, having been similarly tarnished much like everyone else's. The unseen force was just as determined in mutilating any trace of his features that might leave him distinctly his own person.

Zhen had seen images like these in her mirror when the morning fog rolled in and seeped through the blinds. It wasn't until she wiped away at the surface, misted with condensation, would she be able to see herself clearly. She always started from her line of sight and with one stroke of her hand, would reveal a pair of eyes she knew well back to her.

But these were not those eyes.

Much like him, the boy's eyes were not so willing to back down. They were not keen on being wiped away beyond recognition and even less so to releasing Zhen from their steely hold.

She was pinned down where she stood, cornered by the approaching footmen and shaking under the full weight of the boy's gaze.

He parted his lips, making way for another guttural sound that was already up to his throat.

Where there had previously been a series of noises in complete disarray competing against one another, a meticulous symphony of destruction presently stood in its place.

Now with the boy at its center, it moved and accommodated every rise and fall in his breath, allowing itself to be at his mercy.

He proved himself to be a gifted maestro, elevating the meandering piece from what it was by shaping it in his own image, something Zhen began to recognize as that of a tempestuous storm.

It didn't rely too heavily on harnessing the mighty drums of thunder or the deafening shower of continuous rain, not that it had to. The rhythm was clear, the swirling sound of storm clouds gathering together, precise and decisive in every beat that it reached, in every high note that it all built up to.

Zhen sensed every part of her body tighten. The knots in her joints tensed, a pair of lungs caved in and imploded into one, singular organ. It was a poor attempt to reclaim whatever breath they had previously taken in, but it was the best that she could bring herself to do.

Her new captor sucked in a hearty breath himself, smoothing out his throat so that it would not get lodged somewhere in between its path towards coming back into fruition as a fully realized shriek.

Thunder rumbled alongside howling winds and just underneath the surface, a foul temper was brewing.

It all escalated like a crescendo that had been played countless times before. The tea set continued to clatter, the sound reverberating in time with the goosebumps that specked Zhen's back.

The mindless comrades marched forth, in stride and in rhythm with their cult like, riotous whispers. They crowded around their presumptive leader, showing their allegiance as they did but wary of the unspoken barrier that separated them in rank.

This enabled the boy to take center stage.

Zhen could picture the monstrous roar that would roll off his tongue. If the muffled growls were any indicator of what was to come, she was done for.

She involuntarily closed her eyes, already able to hear her impending doom, stalking her as if she were meek prey that had been exposed and laid out to say her prayers in the open.

In her ears, she listened closely for the familiar sound of rushing water, now her only hope for salvation. It was faint but it was there regardless.

But keeping in line with the dire situation, the water was running out. It forged an escape route of her ears, freeing itself from the labyrinth of her ear canal, returning the girl's hearing back to her.

"Look what you made do!"

His voice boomed, compelling every fibre of her being to shudder in horror. The unadulterated sound of it paired with his words, warranting nothing less than a visceral reaction.

Zhen begrudgingly peeled her eyelids back.

And there he was, red faced, every pore in his face clear to her, every snag in his short breaths made perfectly audible.

She looked around her, taken aback to see that they had an audience of people, complete with faces, displaying a variety of expressions ranging from astonished to disapproving.

Zhen's stomach turned at the sight of each individual piece of porcelain, littered around her feet.

The situation all came down to a fight or flight response and there were more reasons stacked atop of each other that argued for her swift departure.

"I'm sorry," she yelped, whisking away out of the door and leaving a coupon fluttering behind her.


End file.
